bathyssal

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trapped in wire acrylic & gouache on panel

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Sun streaked

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Yeehawgust day 20 “rustlin’ up some grub”

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Yeehawgust day 4 “desert rains”

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Leila Chatti, "Postcard from Gone"

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i love it when characters are codependent. i love it when losing someone feels like losing a limb. i love it when two people "complete" each other so wholly and terribly that one can barely function without the other. i love it when the fear of losing the only person who understands them is so all-consuming they'll destroy anything to stay together, including themselves.

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matching icons for spring 🌻💗🌷

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reblog if you enjoy napping, being cozy, being conked out, snoozing, wrapping up in blankets, sipping a hot drink, catching some z's, hugging a plushie, or otherwise relaxing and resting

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[ID: A screenshot of the Notes on an AO3 fanfic. They read: Customary reminder that I hold only a passing acquaintanceship with canon and have no wish to further the relationship. Hope you enjoy! /End ID]

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🍄 🍁 🐌 🐜 🪳✨ // Omphalotus illudens, the bioluminescent jack o' lantern mushroom // gouache on paper

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Cranes

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reading old messages is really fucked up because you see things and you’re like i would not fucking say that

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yejinmoon_

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I have stopped driving for the night, because if I kept going, I was apt to be Taken by things I do not want to be Taken by.

On the edge of sunset, I stopped in a small town in the middle of nowhere, Missouri, because my low fuel light pinged- I usually pay closer attention on road trips, but I’d figured on making it to the Illinois border. I filled my tank, I added oil to my car because it’s still having That issue, and then I picked up the dragonfly that had been stuck in my grill - still alive! - and carried it over to a shaded grassy area to set it down in the hopes it would recover. On my way across the parking lot, I noticed a cicada on the cement, so I picked that up as well, hoping to relocate it to somewhere safer.

Except, it was not a cicada. It LOOKED like a cicada. It wasn’t a brown shell, it was a full on adult cicada. But there was nothing in it. I set it down anyway, beside the dragonfly. As I walked back to my car, a man who looked like he belonged in an old-fashioned construction site, with a tin lunchbox, called out to me from the corner of the parking lot that touched the grass.

“What’d you rescue?”

I said, “A dragonfly,” and kept walking without looking at him directly. I went into the gas station, washed my hands thoroughly, got into my car, and left.

I ambled back to the highway, because this was several miles off of it but I’d been desperate, and as I merged onto the highway, all my car’s equipment - speedometer, gas gauge, radio, etc - flickered. The radio wasn’t tuned to a station, it was connected to bluetooth, but it shut off and then back on. The gauge needles went up and down as the lights flickered. I put on my hazards and pulled over. I shut off the car, turned it back on, and everything was fine.

The sun set behind me. Darkness fell. Darkness… flooded. There’s nothing in Illinois, you see. Nothing. Not even light. The sun was gone and moon was not up, and the only light in any direction for a solid three minutes of driving this highway was the beams of my headlights. It felt like a video game where you only have a torch and whatever you can light up with that is the only thing you can see. It was extremely disorienting. I was following the yellow lines in the road to tell where to go because there was nothing else.

And then, abruptly, it stopped. Ahead of me, a blood red moon had begun to rise. It was so low and large and misshapen that I thought it was something on the ground. Redder than any moon I’ve ever seen. I suddenly understood the term blood moon. I turned on my hazards again, pulled over and tried to take a photo.

I kept going. I realized that aside from the moon’s light, there was still no light. No stars. No other cars, except once in a while. The bridges along this road had eyes. As I drove, it would be dark, dark, dark, and then in the distance, a pair of red glowing spots, like eyes, and I’d have maybe 3 seconds to decide if I wanted to cross into the dark opening beside them. I did. Over and over.

Time stopped working. I would drive and drive and drive. A few minutes would pass. An hour would pass. It seemed like the same hour. my phone was keeping different time.

Out in the fields to either side of me, silver would flash like someone’s headlights had passed over the belly of a silo in the distance. Except the only car in any direction was me, and my headlights were facing the wrong way for that. I was too far away to make that kind of flash.

I kept my bag in the passenger seat. I kept my eyes on the road. I rescued your cicada, too. I set them both in the shade. I laid them both to rest, I swear.

I just want to get home safely.

My friend called. Take the next exit, she said. There are people there- make sure the receptionist is human. I’m pretty sure she was. She told me the pool was closing soon. I said I’m just here to sleep.

I’m going to keep my word. Goodnight.

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As the smallest diving mammal hunting for this water shrew lasts only a few seconds, but their technique underwater is remarkable. Their eyesight is poor so they rely on foraging along the bottom to find movement with their long whiskers. To find stealthier prey they have the rare ability to smell underwater. By blowing tiny bubbles of air they can detect scent particles in the water. Nature on PBS

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fuzzy little voids

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If you look the right way, you can see that the whole world is a garden